


About Time

by orpheous87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarropoly: Founders Edition - A Drarry Game/Fest, Draught of Living Death (Harry Potter), Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Potions, Potions Accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: After being on a week's worth of night surveillance missions, Harry's plan to get some sleep goes awry.Written for Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition and the prompt:What potion did someone take?Choose one of the following potions:PolyjuiceFelix FelicisDraught of Living DeathAmortentiaVeritaserum
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	About Time

“You look knackered, mate,” Ron said, looking at him critically. 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but only a wide yawn came at first. “I am,” he said, blinking his eyes as the yawn subsided. “It’s staying awake for so long on these bloody surveillance nights. I wish they’d just show themselves.” 

“Me too,” Ron replied, nodding. “Me too. It’s got to just be a matter of time now. We’re getting closer.” 

“I know, but I’m supposed to be going out with Draco this weekend,” Harry sighed. “I want to be able to stay awake to actually _talk_ to him.” 

“Maybe take a sleeping potion?” Ron suggested. “Something that’ll let you sleep a bit longer. I know you, you’ll be up at the crack of bloody dawn no matter what time you go to bed. We’re off for the next four days, so if you spend the whole day in bed no-one’s going to mind.” 

“Ah, maybe,” Harry replied, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. “I think I have some in the house. I’ll see how I feel when I get there. I need some food first.” 

“Come on, let’s go in there and grab something,” Ron said, nudging Harry’s arm and pointing at the McDonald’s that they were just passing. “You know I like the burgers.” 

Harry gave a laugh. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be hungry again in an hour, but it’ll fill a hole I suppose.” 

Ron grinned and led the way into the building.

***

Two hours later, Harry arrived home. As he stepped out of the fireplace and into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, he looked around. It had been a few years since he’d lost Kreacher and he still missed having the elf around. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to employ the services of another elf, despite Draco telling him he should every time he came over. On days like this, he was very tempted, he had to admit. It was always nice to come home to a hot meal on the table.

Groaning softly, he went to the fridge and grabbed a packet of cooked ham and the butter. Then he made his way to the counter by the sink to get some bread so he could make himself a sandwich. For all he’d had twenty chicken nuggets and extra large fries, as he’d predicted, he was hungry again. Not wanting to eat a great load more, a sandwich was the perfect compromise. 

Buttering two slices of bread, he layered the ham on top and finished it off with some lettuce. Cutting the finished sandwich into two, he sent the butter floating back to the fridge and dropped the knife into the sink. He didn’t bother with a plate, but got himself a glass of water and took the sandwich into the living room to eat. 

Sitting down, he knew he should look over the paperwork for the next surveillance mission, but he just couldn’t face it tonight. He just wanted to eat his sandwich and go to bed. So that’s what he did. He stood up as he popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth, heading back into the kitchen to refill his glass before going upstairs and getting into bed.

He’d been lying in bed, awake, for what seemed like forever before he lost his patience. Giving a groan, he slid out of bed and headed along to the bathroom. He didn’t bother with his glasses. He reached into the cabinet where he knew his sleeping potions were and took out a vial. He popped the cork and tipped the contents into his mouth before stumbling back to his bed. He’d barely managed to pull the duvet back over himself before he was asleep.

***

“Potter!”

Draco stepped into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, thankful that Harry hadn’t closed the fireplace as he sometimes did. Looking around, he frowned. Everything seemed too still, and there was no evidence of someone being at home except for a single knife in the sink. He looked closer and realised that the knife had the remnants of dried butter on the blade. 

“Well. That’s certainly odd,” he mused. “He never leaves the washing up for that long.” 

He pushed the kitchen door open and headed for the stairs, sticking his head into the living room on his way past. Frowning again, he climbed the stairs two at a time. 

Normally if Harry was late, it wouldn’t bother him too much but he had never known Harry to be over an hour late. The letter that had been returned to him unanswered had been concerning too. His owl had never once failed to deliver a letter to Harry in the past. 

As he reached the top of the stairs, he quickened his pace and found himself at Harry’s bedroom door within seconds. Hesitating briefly, he pushed it open and immediately let out a cry of surprise. Harry was laid, unmoving on the bed. “Harry?”

Making his way slowly to the bed, Draco looked around to see if there was anything suspicious. Shaking his head, he dropped to his knees at Harry’s side and watched him carefully. Upon seeing Harry’s chest rise and fall, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, you’re not dead,” he muttered, looking around again. “What in Merlin’s name have you done though?” 

He stood up again and lit the lamps that lined Harry’s wall before casting another glance down at the floor. His eyes landed upon a small glass vial and he stooped to pick it up. Turning it in his hand, he was glad to see a readable label. “Draught of… Living Death. Merlin’s pants, Potter!” 

Draco left the room quicker than he’d arrived there, immediately heading for the bathroom. He opened the cabinet he knew Harry kept his potions in and pulled out the rack containing the vials. “Why in Merlin’s name would you even have that potion,” he muttered to himself as he began rifling through the vials. “And not have the bloody antidote! For fuck’s sake!” 

He abandoned the bathroom and ran back along the landing and down the stairs to the kitchen. He grabbed the tin of Floo powder from the mantelpiece and threw a pinch into the flames, calling out “Ron Weasley!”

A few moments later, he was looking into the kitchen of Ron and Hermione’s cottage. “Weasley!” 

“Malfoy?” Ron asked as he came into the kitchen. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with Harry?” 

“I would be if he wasn’t fucking comatose on his bed!” Draco exclaimed. He was trying not to panic, but he had no idea how long Harry had been in that state. 

“What?” Ron said, the look on his face immediately turning to one of concern. “What do you mean?” 

“He’s taken a potion,” Draco replied. “But he doesn’t have the antidote.” 

“What potion?” Ron asked. 

“Draught of Living Death,” Draco said with a sigh. “The idiot.” 

Ron groaned softly. “I told him to take a sleeping potion, not to put himself into a coma,” he muttered. “He was knackered the other night after work.” 

“That’s all well and good, but I need to get the antidote for this potion,” Draco said. “I know I don’t have any because I don’t keep Draught of Living Death in my house. I don’t suppose you do, do you?” 

Ron shook his head. “No, definitely not. Imagine if one of the kids got hold of it… Hermione is at work. Let me get hold of her and get back to you. She should be able to get hold of some from there.” 

“Okay. Make sure you tell her it’s urgent,” Draco said. “I have no idea how long he’s been like this.” 

“Don’t worry. She’ll take it seriously,” Ron replied. “I’ll tell her to bring it straight to you.” 

Draco nodded. “Thanks, Weasley.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Ron said, waving a hand. “I’m sure Hermione won’t be long. Talk to you later.” 

Draco nodded and backed out of the fireplace, ending the call. He immediately began to pace back and forth across the kitchen tiles. As he paced, his mind wandered and he found himself thinking about how long they’d been together. He’d been in this kitchen more times than he liked to count over the last six years, yet he still had his own flat elsewhere in London. He wondered if, perhaps, now was the time to discuss moving in together. He was sure that this wouldn’t have happened if they’d been living together. 

Before he could dwell on the thought, the fireplace roared and Hermione stepped into the kitchen. “Granger!” 

“Ron told me what’s happened. I did think it was unusual that we hadn’t heard from him over the last couple of days but I assumed he was just busy,” she said, straightening up and digging a hand into the pocket of her robe. “Here’s the antidote. I got it from the Aurors first aid supplies.” 

“Thank you,” Draco replied gratefully, taking the vial from her. “I appreciate you taking time out of your work to bring it over.” 

“Don’t be silly. It was no trouble,” Hermione said, smiling. “I trust you know how to administer it?” 

“Of course,” Draco nodded. “I’ll go and give it to him now. Then I’ll kill him.” 

Hermione laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything else. I’ll call you both after I’ve finished my shift.” 

Draco gave her a smile. “Thank you. Again. You and Weasley will have to come for dinner one night so we can thank you properly.” 

Hermione looked at him over her shoulder. “You do know I’m a Weasley too?” 

Draco shook his head. “You’ll always be Granger, no matter how many Weasleys you marry.” 

Hermione laughed again and shook her head as she stepped back into the fire, giving him a wave as she disappeared.

Draco ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs again, heading straight into the bedroom. Harry was still lying motionless where he’d left him. Shaking his head again, Draco dropped back to his knees. He uncorked the vial and gently tipped Harry’s chin up until his mouth opened slightly, then he carefully trickled the antidote in. 

Sitting back, Draco watched as Harry began to stir. 

Harry’s eyes blinked open and he rolled onto his side before giving a start. “Draco?” His voice was sleepy. 

“Yeah,” Draco replied softly. 

“What are you doing here? We weren’t meeting until Saturday.” 

“It is Saturday, Harry,” Draco replied, biting his lip gently. “You’ve been asleep.” 

Harry’s brow creased in confusion. “No, I only took a light potion.” 

“You didn’t,” Draco said. “You took a vial of Draught of Living Death by mistake. I had to get Granger to bring the antidote, because for some unfathomable reason, you didn’t have any of that in the house.” 

Harry opened his eyes wide. “No…” 

Draco nodded. “Yes.” 

“Oh, Merlin… I’m sorry.” 

“Well, you should be but I’m just glad you’re alright,” Draco said. “And I think, maybe it’s about time we talked about our living arrangement, don’t you?” 

“Really?” Harry asked, pushing himself into a sitting position. 

“Really,” Draco replied, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I want to be here to see you every day after work, not just the weekends. I won’t care how tired you are, or how hurt you are, I just don’t want _this_ happening again.” 

Harry smiled. “I’d like that too.” 

“Good,” Draco said, leaning in slightly. “Because it’s happening,” he finished, closing the gap completely and kissing Harry. 

Harry returned the kiss, still smiling against Draco’s lips.


End file.
